Bits n' Pieces
by Alpacca Joe
Summary: Just a bunch of randomosity, stuck together for the sake of convenience and because it really doesn't fit anywhere else.
1. Shucked Again

**Shucked Again**

She awoke in darkness, cool, sweet wind swirling about her form in what seemed like open air. The sky was an inky blur and, disoriented, she began patting the ground around her in search of her glasses. She blinked in surprise-- she was laying in what felt like tall grass.

One slim hand curled around the bow of large, round framed glasses and with the smallest relief she slipped them on. They seemed to be intact and she smiled. That, at least, seemed to be going in her favor.

Sight restored, she looked around and what small smile she had faded. She sat, naked as the day the doctor smacked her ass, in the middle of what could only have been a crop circle. What she had at first mistaken for grass were corn stalks, flattened into one of what she knew would be a three-part pattern.

"Oh, god. Not again."

Her forehead felt strangely tight, and a moment later she pulled a pair of white panties with a red cartoon devil smiling from the front of the garment from over her dark auburn hair. Twenty feet away, a red-haired boy moaned softly and began to stir.

Daria Morgendorffer sighed and put a hand to her head. She was beginning to get a headache.

"Goddammit, Jane. Wasn't making him lose his job bad enough?"

Frowning, she keyed a code into the watch on her left wrist and a smiling Jane Lane greeted her best friend and partner in crime. They exchanged light banter in an unintelligible, garbling speech for a few moments before they were interrupted by a low groan.

"Make it quick, he's waking up."

"Aye, aye amiga."

Blue, spinning motes of light obscured Daria's form and she was gone.

Artie sat up and his hands immediately went to his forehead. He flopped back onto the corn with a pained groan and lay staring moodily up at the stars.

On Howard Drive, Daria leapt behind the Lanes' threadbare sofa with an undignified "GAAH!" as Trent Lane retreated, face scarlet and eyes wide. Jane rolled on the ground in helpless mirth as Daria, humiliated, shot the devil panties at her head and glared. Her eyes, usually a soft brown, glared a baleful silver and the carpet burst into flames.

Jane sat up and with a lazy gesture, the fire went out. She wiped an amber eye and stuck out an unusually long, purple tongue.

"Spoilsport."

7/15/08


	2. Eggs Need Salt

**Eggs Need Salt**

Daria smirked appreciatively as Jodie walked away, hips swinging to some inner beat. Just before she disappeared into a classroom she glanced back, caught Daria's rapt gaze and smiled seductively. Then she was gone, and Daria could finally breathe.

"_Oye, se juevo si quiere sal_," Jane commented sagely as she shook her head, a superior smirk permanently stamped on her scarlet lips.

Daria glared for a moment, then unzipped her jacket and flipped her shirt up. Jane's eyes nearly popped out of her head; Daria wore no bra. She continued to stare. The diminutive girl smiled evilly.

"How you like them _juevos_?" she breathed into Jane's ear, so close her hair brushed the brunettes shoulder, and floated away. Jane watched the other girl's hips sway as she glided down the hall.

"_Ayuda me, dios,_" she prayed, and ran to catch up.


	3. Scenes We'd Like to See

**Things O'Neill must never say.**

"Esteem, a teen. Do- oh, fuck this. I'm not nearly drunk enough for this shit."

**000**

**The unlikely secret life of Jake Morgendorffer**

Jake watched the exchange from his place in the Lexus, eyes narrowed as tension built. A moment later his temper went with an audible snap and he stepped out of the car.

"HEY!" The pigtailed brunette stepped back from the rusty pinto, eyes wide in fear as Jake strode over. "What's the problem?"

"He's fighting me on the price," the girl squeaked. Jake glared into the car, studied the green-eyed boy for a moment then sent him packing. The girl sagged in relief and Jake planted a lingering open-mouthed kiss on her parted lips.

"No one insults my ho's."

**000**

**Unlikely product endorsements by Daria characters**

"It's hard not fitting in," Daria said in her usual monotone as someone walked up behind her. "Embarrassing, even humiliating at times. No one wants to go through it. That's why we use Magnum Extra Large condoms." Mack dropped a large hand onto Daria's shoulder and smiled.

"The best fit for you and your man."

A litany of screamed curses erupted from off to the right, Jodie's voice nearly unrecognizable. Wide eyed, the couple shared a glance and took off at a dead run, condom box forgotten.

A moment later, Daria skidded to a halt, scooped up the condoms and ran back in the other direction as Jodie finished loading her gun.

**000**

**Books on the characters' bookshelves that you wouldn't expect to be there**

Stacy pushed to the back of Quinn's closet in search of the redhead's pleather jacket, shouldered aside a display of hanging dresses with difficulty and had just broken through to the back when Quinn looked up from her magazine.

"Stacy, no not th-"

Stacy looked around with wide eyes as she stepped back to reveal a full set of Brian Jacques' REDWALL books.

"It's not what you think!" Quinn babbled desperately, but Stacy only grinned. The pigtailed girl rushed to her backpack and extracted a battered copy of Martin the Warrior.

"I thought I was the only one!"

The girls stared at one another, then squealed ecstatically. Dogs howled in a half-mile radius.

**000**

**The Illuminati**

The school was in uproar as students and faculty rushed out to the football field to witness the demise of their hero. Tiffany smiled as Daria looked into the camera lens and nodded almost imperceptibly. On her left Jane dropped a sly wink.

Tiffany turned her attention to the screen showing the field, where the construction crew worked to pull the crates and fallen goalpost from Tommy's body.

A necessary sacrifice, but a loss no more lamented than a Queen's sacrifice of a lowly pawn. A slim finger extended and knocked a chess piece onto its side as she cast a glittering eye on a stationary image of Ms. Li in her office.

There were always plenty more in play.

**000**

**Stacy Rowe: Protector of the innocent!**

Stacy looked out over the sleeping expanse of Lawndale with a protective eye. The town was safe now, the darkness that would have swallowed both its animals and people broken and tossed into the abyss. Her town. Stacy raised her chin into the blowing wind, catching and cataloging a hundred scents in a moment as she lifted one leg and planted a booted foot on the building's ledge.

Her hand dropped to her side and wound fingers in the warm fur of the dog at her right hand as a large raven flew down to perch on her left shoulder.

The full, silver moon broke through a veil of clouds as the raven's melancholy whisper cut the silence of the night.

"_Nevermore._"


	4. A New Take on Group Dating

"**A New Take on Group Dating**"

Daria sat passively in the chair across the desk from her shrink at her usual weekly session in the Cedars of Lawndale psychiatric center. She plucked at the plastic bracelet on her right wrist as she waited to get started.

"So, Daria," Dr. Phillips smiled at the girl, though the expression did not meet his eyes. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about this week?"

Silence. He cleared his throat, shifted in his leather captain's chair and flipped a file open.

"How are things going with your new roommate?"

Daria looked up, adjusted her gov'ment plastic-framed glasses (less likely to be used to cause harm to herself or others) and began talking in her usual dispassionate manner.

"Darius and one of Jane's personalities, Delores, are dating."

Dr. Phillips blinked and tried not to look surprised. He failed.

"Is that so?"

Daria nodded, once. She was not one to waste movement or words.

"And is it a problem, Darius having, well, a female body?"

Daria shook her head and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose with one finger.

"It's something of a mis-communication. When they met, Darius hit on Delores. I don't know exactly how it happened, but one of them happened to say 'I like girls who like girls,' the other responded in kind and now they're dating."

Dr. Phillips stared at the small girl sitting opposite him for a few long moments. He prided himself on his ability to take things such as mental unhealth in stride, but Daria had something of a knack for knocking him off-kilter.

"And Delores, she sees Darius as- male?"

"No." She tilted her head half of a degree to the left, a small motion which somehow managed to convey amusement. "Delores is a lesbian."

There was almost a full minute of silence before Dr. Phillips flipped the file shut and un-clicked his pen. He set it atop the manila folder and sighed.

"Let's pick this up next week."

Daria smiled.


	5. Voices

"**Voices**"

"Daria?"

Jane wandered toward her friend's room with a frown, confused and a little worried that the girl had asked her to rush over at nearly ten in the evening. More disturbing still was the fact that the house was empty, the front door standing slightly ajar at this time of night. Jane reached out one hand. Her middle finger touched Daria's bedroom door, which swung inward with a forlorn creak. The light was out, the only illumination from the computer screen. The room stood empty.

Dread flooded Jane's body and weighed down her limbs as she moved to look at the screen. A word processing document had been left open, a single line stretched across the center of the page.

To the voices: You win.

The bottom dropped out of the world. Jane's heart stopped. She heard the scraping of feet coming from above her, knew it could only be coming from one place. Lead still anchored her body to the floor, but violent desperation flared in her eyes and she somehow found the strength to run.

"DARIA!"

A ladder hit the grass at the back of the house, and rain began to fall.


	6. Mommy's Baby, Daddy's Maybe

"**Mommy's Baby, Daddy's Maybe**"

Quinn squirmed in the plush seat as Jake drummed his fingers nervously on the table. Every so often his eyes would drift to the clock on the wall above the conference room door, then jerk down to his wristwatch, then to Quinn before settling on the table once more.

Quinn sighed. She was sorry she ever started this mess.

A low chime sounded from the clock on the wall and Jake sat ramrod straight in his chair, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists on the tabletop. A vague brand of panic blossomed in Quinn's stomach and she reached over to lay a hand on Jake's trembling fist.

"Don't worry," Quinn whispered when Jake turned to look at her, terrified. "No matter what happens, you'll always be my Daddy."

The words melted the iceberg encasing Jake's heart and, with a warm smile, he squeezed his daughter's hand.

The conference room door swung inward and an impeccably dressed man strode grandly into the room. Jake glanced up and gaped, spluttering as the man took a seat opposite them.

"Rooster?"

"Hey there, Jake," Charles Ruttheimer II greeted with a greasy grin as he plucked at his pant legs to preserve the crease. "Been a while. You look good."

Quinn's face had gone white as cottage cheese.

"_You're_ my _FATHER?_"

"That's right, pumpkin." He held out his arms, eyes the same shade of green as Quinn's twinkling in merriment. "Come to Daddy."


	7. Slashers

**Slashers**

Daria sat in a dark room typing furiously at her computer, the only illumination the glow of the monitor where it reflected in her glasses.

_Almost there_, she thought. _Just a little more..._

Quite suddenly, the bedroom door was thrown open and the light flicked on.

"Daria, we're going to be_ late_."

Jane strode into the room and stopped just short of Daria where she sat in her swivel chair, still typing madly. Jane planted her fists on her hips.

"Hold on," Daria murmured, teeth sunk into her lip as she leaned closer to the screen. "I'm almost done with this Kirk/Spock-"

"You're _still_ writing that crap?" Jane scoffed. Daria turned her chair to reveal a black shirt reading _in ur fandom slashin ur canon _under her usual green jacket. There were various stains on the lap of her jeans varying in color and texture of the foods she had dropped while writing.

"Like you can say anything, writing that abomination Edward/Jacob girlporn you call fanfic."

Jane grinned and straightened her **I slash everything** tee.

"You're forgetting the Edward/Carlisle art that has offended so many."

Daria laughed.

"Yeah, and I don't rush you while you're defying common decency, do I?"

"Meh," Jane conceded. "Finish your literary aneurysm so we can go."

Daria licked her lips, cracked her fingers, and gladly followed orders.


	8. Shower

"**Shower**"

Daria looked up as Jane drifted through the door of Daria's bedroom, towel around her neck and dreamy smile on her lips. Without a word, Jane dropped to her knees on the carpet and climbed into her sleeping bag.

"M'night..." she sighed. Daria smirked.

"Good shower?" There was only a snore for reply.

Rolling her eyes, Daria went back to her book.

A moment later, Jake walked down from the direction of the bathroom and poked his head into Daria's doorway. His hair was still damp, curled around his ears and his chest hair glistened with water droplets, robe loosely belted at the waist.

"G'night, kiddo!" Jake called merrily and Daria waved back.

A heartbeat later, consternation twitched at her brows and she glanced between Jane and her bedroom door several times.

And her eyes widened in horror.


	9. Holiday Fun

**Saturnalia Miracle**

Daria and Jane walked into the Morgendorffer home and stopped dead just past the threshold. They stared goggle-eyed at the Saturnalia orgy taking place on the first level of the house, their noses wrinkled at the indescribable stench of sex, liquor and clotted cream. For some reason, there were large-denomination bills scattered over the carpet. Jane spotted them and crouched to scoop up a handful of fifties, smiling.

"It's a Christmas Miracle!" Jane said happily. Daria had just witnessed her mother and Ms. Li doing a tag-team attack on Mrs. Johanssen before turning their respectable talents on each other. She opened her mouth to respond to Jane's merriment, when Quinn and the Fashion Club entered from the kitchen with cans of Redi-Whip and bottles of vodka and rum on silver trays. They wore expectant smiles and nothing more. Daria lunged across the writhing bed of tangled bodies, grabbed a bottle of Absolut and broke it against the wall.

"Like, what are you doing, Quinn's hired concubine or whatever?" Sandi queried, her words fanning out in a brown cloud of whiskey breath as Daria lunged with her makeshift shiv.

"Go to hell!" replied Daria.  
-

**New Years' Surprise**

The Morgendorffer New Years Eve party was in full swing. Family and friends from all over Lawndale, and some from beyond, frolicked and boogied through the first story of 1111 Glen Oaks in inebriated contentment. Most of the guests wore costumes, but Daria was dressed in her usual ensemble, plus a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers (for comfort).

A short line snaked across the room and Daria sighed. Figuring that a bunch of drunks would be reluctant to venture all the way upstairs to relieve themselves and thus making more room for booze Daria climbed to the second floor and turned toward the bathroom. The hallway was empty and, a small smile on her lips, Daria strolled up to the door. She stopped short, finding it closed.

There was a hole drilled through the wood at around waist-height.

Frowning, Daria bent over to peer through the hole. Her glasses clanked against the door and she removed the obstruction and just managed to get her eye to the hole in time to see a fuzzy projectile shoot through and collide with her bare eyeball.

"GAH!"

Daria jumped back and clapped a hand to her abused eye as the door swung inward. There stood Jake in his pirate costume, pants undone and junk jutting out to further traumatize his brutalized daughter.

"Oops! Sorry, kiddo! Thought you were your mother."

The ride to Lawndale Medical was passed in uncomfortable silence.


	10. World's Shortest Crossover 1

Daria fixed her dining companion with a glare.

"My boyfriend, your boss told you to take me out and do whatever I wanted. Well I wanna dance, I wanna win, I want that trophy. So dance good."

Jane threw her napkin on the table and led the lady onto the floor.

**000**

The flesh melted back from his form as Daria and Trent watched, and just before he sank beneath the surface of the pool Sher-man-tep spoke in a guttural, preternatural voice.

"Death," Daria translated as she clung to Trent's shoulders. "Is only the beginning."

**000**

The junkie took Trent's hand.

"Cold hands," he remarked. She smiled.

"You too. Big, like my father's." Her eyes flicked up to his in the moonlight. "Wanna dance?"

Trent blinked. "With you?"

"No, with my father."

"Bummer. I'm Trent."

The junkie dipped long fingers into Trent's pocket and grinned, triumphant.

"They call me, they call me Kiki."

She waved the baggie of heroin as she skipped from the apartment, long red hair bouncing behind her.

**000**

Jake glared crazily around the golf course, eyes bulging with unknowable rage and screamed "YOU`RE **ALL **HANDLING MY ASS-PENNIES!"

**000**

"Help me," the auburn-headed fly droned as the green-eyed spider advanced across the web. "Help me."

Hard eyed, the black-haired girl lifted the rock in both hands and, with a disgusted sneer, crushed them both.

**000**

The man in black fled across the desert, and the Misery Chick followed.

**000**

Daria shoved a handful of spoons into a pickle jar, screwed it closed and shook vigerously with a grim frown on her young face. Very slowly she looked around and deadpanned "My friends need to be punished."

**000**

Quinn grit her teeth in anticipation of the pain she would soon feel when her sister ripped out her eyes. A moment later, her eyes flew open, astonished, as all she felt was a gentle thump on her forehead.

"Forgive me, Quinn," Daria gasped through her sad, bloody smile. "This is the last time."

As Daria fell back, dead, Quinn found herself nonetheless blinded by tears of heartbreak.

**000**

I'd be visiting her in some vague time in the future, deliberately vague, for people like me, who realign past events to suit themselves. In that future time, you always have a chance to catch the groceries before they fall; your words can always be rewound and erased, rewritten and revised.

Then I'd imagine Daria visiting me. There are no psychiatrists or deans, no boys with nice shoes or flip cashiers. Just me in my single room. She knocks on the door and says, "Open up."

**000**

Well a Scotsman clad in kilt left the bar one evening fair, and one could tell by how he walked that he'd drunk more than his share. He fumbled round until he could no longer keep his feet and he stumbled into the grass to sleep beside the street.

About that time two young and lovely girls just happened by. One said to the other with a twinkle in her eye, "See yon sleeping Scotsman, so strong and handsome built?" Jane tilted her head toward the sleeping, brown-haired boy with a grin.

"I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt."

**000**

"Lydia, oh Lydia, say, have you met Lydia? Lydia the Ta-attooed Lady. She has eyes that folks adore so- and a torso even more so. _Rawr!_"

Charles stroked his broad mustache and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

**000**

"Did you just acCUSE me," grinned Tony Frost. "of being SKILLFUL and DELICIOUS?"

**000**

"You're the fairest maid I've ever met. You were made-"

"To finish your du-EEEEEEET!"

Tom stopped singing, stared at Jane for a long moment, then unceremoniously dumped her off his horse and rode away without a backwards glance.

Jane dusted herself off and grumbled, "Critic."

**000**

Jane gestured expansively toward the horizon, then turned to her companion.

"Yonder is the castle of my faddah."

**000**

"Mistuh D."

DeMartino, personal butler to the mad Earl of Lawndale, turned to face his eternal enemy. There she stood, a great pile of waste, leering at him with those damned pig eyes. DeMartino sneered.

"Johanssen."

Johanssen, main cook of Lawndale Castle, raised her cleaver in challenge and DeMartino moved to face off against his foe for the last time.

**000**

"You can _uh,_ you can _uh_, you can _uh-uh-uh-_ that's how burlesque was born," Janet Barch sang in her harpy screech as young Gypsy watched, eyes intent but smiling behind her thick glasses.

"Me, I_ uh_, and I _uh_, and I _uh-uh-uh-_ but I do it with a_** horn!**_"

**000**

"You know what's nice, Jane? Being able to afford things," Daria ranted. "_I can afford things, can you afford things?_"

Jane shrugged. "Not much."

Light filled the lenses of Daria's glasses and they glowed white, as though reflecting the blinding intensity of her madness.

"_I can afford happiness_."

**000**

"Upchuck, you talk a lot of shit for someone who never says anything."

"Oh, face!" Jane laughed as Jodie fished a twenty from her back pocket. Upchuck took it with wounded dignity as the girls hashed out the details of their meet-up, and who would be driving whom to the Zon the following night.

"The Zon's not one of your square country club dances," Tom warned, a challenge in his green eyes. Jodie smirked.

"That's fine, I dance in circles-probably around _you_."

The challenge was accepted; whether it would be met was anyone's guess.

**000**

Boobs De'Seuss, a blonde prostitute with ginormous breasts and a love for short, rhyming literature, came galloping out into the brothel's common room. She skidded to a stop on the heels of her cowboy boots, her outraged scream nearly as high in pitch as a dog whistle.

"That crazy sonofabitch branded me!"

Sure enough, there was a steaming circle brand bearing the letters CR3 glaring on her right ass cheek.

Angela "Tiger Lili" tilted back her stetson with narrowed eyes.

"I warned you, Charles!"

"Bring it!" Cattle brand in hand, Charles stepped into the room to retrieve his shoes.

**000**

"My, my," Jodie snarled as her muzzle extended and a deep rumble grew up behind her syrupy voice; the resulting growl drowned out the whimper of the vampire-costumed man she straddled. Glistening fangs slid down over Jodie's lips, eyes yellow and bright as a harvest moon. "What big eyes you have."

A hungry growl pierced the night, terrified scream degenerating to wet, strangled gurgles as Jodie ripped out O'Neill's throat and began to feed, her sisters' howls rippling around her in the Halloween dark.

**000**

"You know what, I'm gay now!" Jake yelled back over his shoulder as he was loaded into the ambulance. "And not just a little gay, full-on _Liberace_ gay! **I LIKE _SHOWTUNES!_**"

**000**

Moreno, the cynical Spanish cop and Sherman, the big gay cop, stared at the drenched teenagers standing on the dock a few feet away from them. Supersoakers hung from the detectives' hands.

"Oh ass bear," the little goth girl laughed at Sherman as she wrung out her mane of fiery red hair. "You make me wet."

The kids fell all over each other laughing, Young Thomas holding the girl up as Leary the cadaver dog ran over to join in the celebration.

**000**

Tom looked down at homeless guy wearing shoulder pads and a tattered football jersey. He sat with an enormous cat in a fuzzy red sweater and held a sign which read **I'm the QB and someone shaved my huge cat**.

**000**

Tony DeMartino staggered out onto the sidewalk, hand clamped over an oozing wound, and smiled.

"**I'm** not so _tough._"

He keeled over and lay still on the pavement.

**000**

"I don't wanna sound like a queer or nothin'," Kevin smiled as he checked the lens on his camera. "But I think unicorns are kick-ass!"

**000**

"Weeeee aaarreeee Inndiaannnnnsss." the diminutive girl in eagle feathers and war paint drawled at the dubious travelers. "Seeee our teeee-peeess?"

The group stared at the tee-pees, which were decorated with a large red dot in the center reminiscent of a sun.

"これらの人は、かなり愚かです。" commented one of the tribe.

**000**

Sometime before dawn, the cracks in the ceiling of Boston's 23rd precinct ran with rain water. The drops spilled down onto the foreheads of cell number 6's two inhabitants as a strangely familiar voice spoke in their minds. They awoke with deep, ragged gasps and turned toward each other in the semi-light.

"Destroy all that is evil," spoke the elder.

"So that what is good may flourish," replied the younger.

A few additional hours' sleep refreshed them and as Jane rubbed her bruised, cut face Trent pulled the crucifix he wore out of his shirt and kissed it.

"And shepherds we shall be," he whispered just as their friend, Daria, entered the cell with a gift of fresh clothes.

**000**

Erin backed away in terror as the bloody, skinless horror held out his arms and grinned.

"Come to uncle Jake."

**000**

I saw the light on the night that I passed by his pinto. I saw the flickering shadows of love on the glass.

He was my boyfriend; as he deceived me I watched and vowed to kick his ass.

**000**

Daria pushed the pimply kid away from the mic, pulled it to her lips and fixed her manager with an icy stare.

"Fuck you," she pointed to one of her regular customers. "Fuck you."

Another employee. "Fuck you."

A random person who happened to catch her eye. "Fuck you."

"You're cool," she said to Jane, who had come to visit during her lunch break and Jane gave her a thumbs up, then to the counter help she had initially manhandled. "AND fuck you, I'm out."

She tossed down her Cluster Burger hat and bounced.

**000**

"Oh no WE'RE BEING **PICKETED BY AGNOSTICS!**"

Nick sighed. Athiesm was a bust, too.

**000**

"Are you really interested in that Trent creep?"

"Tom," Daria sighed. "What do my eyes tell you?"

Tom gazed into his steady's eyes, flat and disinterested behind her glasses, and smiled, relieved.

"You don't love anyone but me." Tom grinned.

"Uh, yeah," Daria muttered as she moved to rejoin the rest of the Fan Club. "You keep tellin' yourself that."

**000**

"_What's in mah fruit cellar?_!" Henrietta Johanssen bellowed as she burst up through the dirt floor. Trent screamed and scrambled away. "_Someone who smells like **CHOCOLATE!**_"

**000**

Didi pulled two pennies out of her pocket and dropped them into Jane's hand.

"This is all the money I have left. I want you to have it."

"Thanks," Jane laughed, then froze as Didi kissed her cheek.

"Thank you for a great day."

Jane watched the girl climb up so that she stood on the lip of the fountain they had been sitting on. Didi raised her arms to the sky, took one last, deep breath, and fell backwards into the water.

In another realm, a woman greeted the newly dead girl with a warm smile. She had Egyptian eye makeup, long black hair and wore a large silver ankh.

"Did you have fun, Didi?"

The spectacled girl smiled. "Yes."

"Good. It's time to come home."

The women clasped hands, and Didi vanished. Death walked back into the void.

**000**

Danny stood up, fists clenched dramatically, and just barely noticed the silhouette of his head on the drive-thru screen below.

"Oh, Sandi bay-be! Someday when hi-yai school is done," he sang, whinily. "Somehow, some way, our-"

He fell unconscious when a tire iron connected with his head, effectively un-blocking the projector. A collective cheer grew up from below, then everyone went back to their movie.

**000**

Seven year-old Daria was reading a book and trying to ignore Quinn's conversation wit the T.V. set. Daria looked up when the lights started to flicker. Quinn knelt on the floor, hands pressed to the television screen, and smiled.

"They're here."

There was a flash, and suddenly Quinn was gone.

Daria dropped her book and rushed to the T.V. Quinn's vague voice could just be discerned amidst the garbled whispers and static. Smiling, Daria shut off the set.

**000**

"Angier!" Jake shouted. "Did you see what he did?"

"No, what did he do?" Angier sighed as he turned away from his son and back to the stage.

"He blew a _bubble_with his _gum_ while I was singing! He can't do that while I'm _SINGING!_"

-


	11. Trent Foolery

"**Trent-Foolery**"  
3/12/11

Trent came bursting out of Casa Lane as Daria and Jane were coming up the walk. His eyes were wild, hair neatly combed and numerous piercings removed. He looked like a Banana Republic had thrown up on him and someone had shaved his soul patch.

"They got me, Janey!" He seized his sister's arms, panicked, and gave her a shake. "The Preppies got me!"

The girls watched as he started pulling at his clothes, his movements desperate and jerky.

"Gotta get it off, _gotta get it off_, GOTTA GET IT OFF IT BURNS! **IT BURNS IT BURNS AAAAHHHHHHH!**"

Trent took off down the street, shedding clothes as he went, and the girls watched him go.

"How long do you think it'll take him to realize it was you?"

Jane shrugged. "All I know is I'm gettin outta dodge while the gettin's good. Last time I woke up with no eyebrows, and that was just for dying his hair blond. Who knows what twisted revenge he'll come up with for _this?_"

And with moderate haste, the duo went to retrieve Jane's overnight bag and beat feet for the Morgendorffers'.


	12. A Matter of Principal

"**A Matter of Principal**"

Daria and Jane were walking home from school.

"So, who would you marry?" Jane held up a hand, all but two fingers folded down. "Sir Topham Hat or King Friday?"

"Sir Topham Hat," Daria replied immediately. Jane was incredulous.

"Really? I'd have pegged you for the absolute monarch type."

"I like me a good top hat." Daria dead-panned. "Classy."

"Come on, Daria," Jane laughed. "What's the real reason?"

Daria sighed. "It's a matter of principal." Jane motioned her on. "I promised Quinn King Friday when we were kids."

Jane stared, mouth agape. "You promised _Quinn?_ What, did she play the princess angle, or-?"

Daria shook her head. "The plan, the way she told me, was to depose King Friday and rule Make-Believe with an iron fist. There was also some talk of extending the borders, but I don't think the Fraggles had territory anywhere near there."

Jane was silent for several minutes as she absorbed this information.

"How long ago was this, exactly?"

"Around kindergarten."

"Quinn thought this up when she was in _kindergarten?_"

"No." Daria turned her head and glanced at Jane out of the corner of one eye. "When I was."

"Oh-kaaaay. I never pegged Quinn for a megalomaniac but then, I avoid contact with her whenever I can."

"A wise course of action."

"Okay, so no King Friday." Jane thought a moment. "Sesame Street, then. All the cool Muppets have died in a horrific moth attack. You have to choose between Bert and Ernie."

"What about Telly?"

"Let's assume he broke from the trauma and offed himself. Who do you choose?"

Daria sighed again. "Bert."

Jane eyed the shorter girl with a calculating look.

"Do I want to leave this alone?"

"Yes. Yes, you do."

And so they passed the remainder of the walk in silence.


	13. Try, Try Again

**Try, Try Again**

Daria pulled her head out of the toilet, gasping, and lay her cheek against the cool porcelain.

"Not again," she groaned.

An hour later, after a trip to the drug store and another little stay in the bathroom, Daria punched numbers on the cordless phone and listened as it rang.

"Yo."

"It happened again."

"_Again?_" Daria rested a hand on her abdomen, frowning, as Jane sucked in breath. "When the hell no pun intended is he going to get the hint? You're not into the whole Mother of Darkness thing! Stop trying!"

"As amusing as it would be to go down in history as the mother of the Antichrist, I just can't see myself pushing a pram on my morning walk to school." She heaved a sigh. "You up for a field trip to Oakwood this afternoon?"

"Sure. Usual place?"

"Yeah. I'm not even going to bother calling ahead this time; with the number of appointments I've made at that clinic, I should have preferred customer status by now."

"I'll be there in ten. If you want me in the room with you this time, you'll have to promise not to do that glowing eyes, speaking in tongues thing you did last time. The nurse freaked out and I ended up with a face-full of anesthesia; believe me, an operating room floor is _not_ a good place for a nap."

"I'll see what I can do." Daria frowned. "There's one thing about this whole mess that's bothering me, though."

"You mean besides getting constantly knocked up by the root of all evil?"

"Please, Jane. Ms. Li can't produce sperm. No, I just can't help but wonder: there's supposed to be a ceremony for this kind of ritual, right? Who the hell could be doing it?"

**0.0.0**

Quinn huffed in frustration when she saw Jane leading a groggy Daria into the house. She had that distinctly drugged up look she usually had when she came back from the Women's Clinic in Oakwood. An impotent rage fueled itself in Quinn's stomach at being thwarted once again.

_Oh!_ she fumed silently. _This is the sixth time the Fashion Club's done the stupid ritual! At this rate, I'll_ never _get that modeling contract!_

Determined, Quinn grabbed her purse and stormed out of the house, intent on a certain shop on Dega Street. Clinic or no clinic, they would be trying again tonight; she was getting an entire gross of black candles, this time. After all, as Helen had always told her "if at first you don't succeed..."

She flipped her phone open before climbing into Jake's Lexus.

"Hi, Sandi? Looks like we'll have to go again. Tonight. " She rolled her eyes. "Duh, new moon! Wear your sequined robes with the satin lining; we're raising _Satan_-he'll expect you to look totally fetch. Remember what he did to Stacy when she was wearing those horrible poly-blend rags her mom picked up for her?"

Quinn blew through a traffic light without slowing.

"Well, yeah, but she got her hearing back, eventually. So midnight, as usual. My attic. I'll prepare snacks."

A wicked smile formed on the redhead's lips. They would work their magic every night, if they had to. Sooner or later, Daria was going to be a mommy.

"La la LA la laaa," Quinn hummed merrily, and ran another red light.


	14. Summer Lovin'

**Summer Lovin'**  
5/2/11

They ran into each other during summer break. One sarcastic comment led to another, and before they knew it they were in his new old car, making out in front of the Pizza King.

He invited her back to his house. She surprised them both by accepting.

And now they were in his bedroom, entirely unclothed, as he dug through his drawers in search of a box of condoms.

"HA!" Tom crowed in triumph as he extricated the pack from a tube sock. He pulled one of the prophylactics out and started shaking it. "Sneaky little bastards."

Daria narrowed her eyes at the box, frowning slightly.

"Wait. Those aren't neon, are they?"

"Of course not," Tom assured, grinning. "They're glow in the dark."

Tom was still grinning when the door slammed behind him. It took him quite a few seconds to realize he had just been thrown out of his own house.

The wind blew, and a woman screamed a few yards away.

It took a few more seconds to realize he was also completely naked.

It was an awkward ride to the Guard Stand.


	15. An Invitation You Can't Refuse

**An Invitation You Can't Refuse**  
5/6/11

"Are you ladies in need of a knight in shining armor?"

"Can we take the armor and ditch the knight?"

"Hey!" Charles smirked. "It's a packaged deal, toots!"

Daria and Jane exchanged a look, then Daria unzipped her boxy green jacket, swept it open and drew her glock from her tooled leather shoulder holster.

"Get the fuck outta the car!"

Charles blanched and began stammering, eyes wide as dinner plates as he fumbled with his seat belt.

"_Don't test me, bitch! Get out! **NOW!**_"

"Da-" Daria turned her scorching gaze on her sister, whose mouth snapped shut as her eyes flew open. She swallowed hugely and began again. "_E-Esmerelda_, you said you weren't going to do this anymore!"

In a moment of clarity, Charles managed to unbuckle the belt, throw the driver's side door open and jump out of the car.

"_**GGGYYYYYAAAAAHHHHHHH!**_" he commented in passing as he fled into the night.

"_Godcuntfuckdammit_, Quinn! He got away before I could get his wallet!"

"Hey, it's not _my_ fault-"

Daria swung the gun around so that it was pointing at her sister.

"Shut the fuck up! _Just shut the fuck **UP** and get in the car!_"

"_Don't point that at me!_ Daria, you said you wouldn't point it at me anymore you _promised!_"

"Get in the FUCKING CAR QUINN _GODDAMMIT **NOW!**_"

The cops at Brittany's were alerted by the commotion at the guard stand and had begun to amble their way back. Daria vaulted into the driver's seat, Jane took shotgun and Quinn, against her conscience and better judgment, dove into the back. The little hatchback peeled out and screamed down the road back toward their respective homes at break-ankle speed (breakneck being out of its league) with Jane and Daria cackling madly at the top of their lungs.

Quinn sighed theatrically and dropped her face into her hands. Here they were, in a whole new town, and she once again would be expected to explain the new car in the driveway come breakfast.

_Well_, she mused as the duo up front snapped on the car radio and _Intergalactic_ by the Beastie Boys blared from the tinny speakers. _At least she was sober this time._

The car swerved as something furry expired under the left front tire, and it was forward into the future.


	16. World's Shortest Crossover II

"I was an experimental girl! Maybe you knew early on that your track was from point A to B, but unlike you I was not given a fucking map at birth, so I tried it all!" Lyndie spat, tears coursing down her face. She glared into David's eyes, willing him to understand.

"That is until _we_, that's _you_ and _I_, got together. And suddenly I was _sated_." She took a deep breath, shoulders slumping with spent emotion.

"You turned out to be _all I was looking for_."

**000**

The sprite came upon a woman in the wilderness. She wore a verdant gown, and used her thick hair as a pillow.

"See yon maiden sleeping sound," Up-Puck intoned as he crouched over the woman, a blossom in one hand. "On the dank and... _dirty_ ground. _Rawr_."

**000**

Jayne smirked at the pigtailed blonde.

"Can I call you Boo Boo Kitty-Fuck?"

Silent Dee face-palmed and rolled her eyes.

**000**

Stacy pulled a large gun from seemingly nowhere, and the board room suddenly emptied. Rage and glee lit a flame behind Stacy's brown eyes as she took chase.

"Don't run! _Don't run!_ **FAKES!** _**FAKES, YOU'RE ALL FAKES!**_"

Daria stood behind in the empty room and shrugged. They didn't have much time left here; let the girl have her fun.

**000**

A mountainous, sweaty woman lumbered forward to assess the new arrival. Unmasked lust and hostility gleamed in her piggy eyes.

"Got a pretty mouth," she wheezed. The new arrival sneered.

"I am Yu-Li!" the stout Asian woman announced, and swept the prisoners with an arrogant glare. "I am nobody's bitch!"

**000**

"My dad's not a sycophant, Mr. De. He's a contractor."

"THANK, you Kevin. I'm SURE that will bring me COMFORT when I return to my VAN down by the RIVER!"

**000**

She lived unknown, and few could know  
When Daria ceased to be;  
But she is in her grave, and oh,  
The difference to me!

**000**

As the bus lumbered away from the dark depot, Stacy half-rose out of her seat, one hand on her suitcase, the other raised to stop the driver. _Wait, I went a little crazy, let me out and I'll trade in my ticket and go back home, maybe Ted will take me back, maybe my mother will welcome me home._

But the bus lurched and toppled her back into her seat. They were bumping across the railroad tracks that led out of Missing Dale, and she saw an omen: far down the line, at some other junction, a pair of signal lights gleaming in the night.

They were green.

Bright green.

Like the color of her lover's eyes.

**000**

"What's wrong with his eyes?" Daria stared down at the baby in the crib, horrified. "What did you do to his _eyes?_"

"He has his Father's eyes," Coyote said.

"What are you talking about? Trent's eyes are brown!"

Tom stared, shocked. "What?"

Daria blinked, realizing her mistake. "Um..."

Tom walked over and switched his gaze between Daria and the baby several times.

"Screw this," he decided. "Deal's off."

He grabbed the baby and, before anyone could react, threw him out the window.

**000**

"We're never gonna make babies!" Ted cried as Tom Sloane pushed him aside. Daria winced; in this disguise, Ted looked and sounded remarkably like her maternal grandmother.

"So I'll see you at the party this Saturday." Tom gave her an oily smile. "_Darsie._Ciao."

"Oh, listen to that: Italian. Look out for the Italian man," Ted ranted, glaring at Sloane's back. Daria sighed; she should never have quit drinking.

**000**

"Hey Spice Girls!"

The guys turned to look at the brunette where she hung out of the Tank's passenger's side. Ted pushed his glasses up his nose.

"You gonna swap recipes all day?" Jane knocked ash from her cigar. "Vegas awaits, ladies!"

**000**

The orange feet were pumping rapidly, as if doing a Highland Fling. The pink jaws of the Jumbo Chattery Teeth nodded rapidly up and down, as if saying _yes! yes! yes!_ and then shook back and forth, just as rapidly, as if saying _no! no! no!_

The agonized shriek built to a shrill crescendo.

As the cloth of "Todd's" jeans began to rip-and that was not all that was ripping, by the sound-Jake Morgendorffer passed out.

**000**

Joey: I burn-  
Jeffy: I pine-  
Jamie: I perish-

All: 'Til I alone canst wed the fair Lady Quinn!

**000**

Jake began hacking and coughing loudly, and when it was over, held a large box in his hands.

"Does anyone want to play Stratego? I have Stratego."

**000**

Ted awoke suddenly, sure he was falling, to find himself in a strange house. In his hand was a golden staff, beautifully worked and perfectly balanced. An old woman offered him tea, and spoke to him in what he was sure was Cantonese. Even the owners of Good Time Chinese restaurant did not speak Chinese in Lawndale. Ted accepted the cup, smiling, and drank.

He stood and walked to the doors of the house, threw them open, and stared in wonderment. Before him lay a sprawling land, green grasses and rolling hills wreathed in mist. Rice paddies and fields extended into the distance, people in period clothing working in the clean air.

Ted took one long look around, adjusted his glasses, and grinned.

"Awesome."

**000**

The bespectacled boy with the strange tee shirt reading "The Head" picked himself off of the ground and glared after the football player who had pushed him down. From seeming nowhere, a boy with a rather unusual haircut held out an elaborate lanyard, which The Head took.

"Juana offers you her protection," Luhrman said in an extreme monotone. The Head looked from the lanyard in his hand, to the **VOTE FOR JUANA**shirt the upperclassman wore. And smiled.

**000**

An adorable gray squirrel sat in a tree overlooking a certain driveway on Glen Oaks Lane. He was eating an acorn, tiny nose twitching as he chewed at the nut.

_I shall eat all of the nuts on this tree_, he thought with a maniacal glint to his shiny eyes. _I shall eat more nuts than I should, and perhaps other squirrels may die._

As he plotted this nefarious plan, a large human male stood beneath his tree, yelling in agitation. The maniacal glint deepened to a gleam.

**000**

Darsel and Janel walked hand-in hand up to the candy house. Janel looked down at her inappropriate garb, and frowned.

"I'm wearing lederhosen."

"Shut up, you're ruining the atmosphere."

An old woman opened the graham cracker door and beckoned them in.

"Come, little lost children," the hag invited in her nails-on-a-chalkboard voice. "Feast until you're fine and fat enough to be served at a King's dinner. I mean, you look hungry!"

Darsel and Janel exchanged a look.

"Yeah," Janel said as they walked forward. "Sure. We totally believe you and completely disregard what you said about eating us."

"Well, good."

A few hours later, Darsel and Janel sat down to a steaming roast. Janel held up her plate as Darsel prepared to carve.

"And she herself even carved the Roast Beast," Darsel narrated as she cut off a large slice and deposited it on Janel's plate.

"Wrong story, amiga."

They ate heartily that night, and no more children disappeared in that wood from that night onward.

**000**

"The papers! The papers, Dave!"

David looked over to see his roommate, Greg, holding up a gallon zipper bag of weed and shaking it in his face.

"Papers! Papers, everyone."

He snapped awake to see his Psychology professor circling the room, collecting test papers. He was only two desks and one row away. David looked down at his own paper; it was a complete blank. He had not even written his name.

His professor was one desk away, now.

"Oh, shit," David breathed. He was so _screwe_d.

**000**

"Does the countess have any other gifts to give?"

"I'll ask."

Jane leaned over onto the table at which Daria sat.

"_Maha_."

"_Aha_."

**000**

Tom and Daria sat at the news desk, smiling, as the credits rolled across the screen.

"I'm going to punch you in the uterus," Tom said, grinning.

"Wow," Daria laughed, straightening a stack of papers. "Ouch."

"Right in the baby-maker."

"The jazz flute," Daria countered. "Is for little fairy boys."

"That's it." Tom stood from the desk and stormed off, muttering "I can't work this way."

**000**

Nick laughed, sharp teeth glinting in the muted light.

"They're maggots." He leaned forward, eyes shining. "You're eating maggots, Trent."

**000**

I jumped up onto the battlement and honked my codpiece in greeting.

"Hail Thomas, the bloody bastard!"

"Come down and face your death, Fool!"

I made an elegant bow and jumped down in time to see the Duke of Oakwood's entourage approaching the Tower, the luscious Lady Sandregan among them. She tried to have me killed once, you know-_that's_ what I call feisty. _Rawr_.

**000**

Mack paused in his sewing, tilted his head back, and sighed. "Joey."

Bret froze. "Joey? What the fuck did I just hear?"

Mack's eyes flew open wide. "I didn't say Joey, I said _Jodie!_"

Ted sat up, adjusting his glasses.

"Did you say Jo-"

"I didn't say Joey! I'm Mack Daddy, I love da _pussy!_Lay your ass back down and look at the stars."

**000**

Jake cooed at his newborn son, beaming bright as the baby squeezed his finger with a strong hand.

"You wanna kill a Nazi? A Nazi-nazi-squazi?

**000**

Fifteen-year-old Tad Gupty turned to his sister, Tricia, in the seat beside him and took her hand. She smiled goofily, flying high on the sedatives administered during her wisdom tooth extraction.

"Will you marry me?"

Tricia looked horrified, and shook her head as she pulled her hand away.

Mrs. Gupty watched her children in the rear view.

"You can't marry her, Tad! She's your sister!"

Tad considered this. "Will _you_marry me?"

"Honey, I'm your mother."

"Prove it!"

"I can't prove it right now-"

"HA!" Tad laughed, triumphant. "Marry me."

Tricia laughed to herself as her mother sighed and kept driving.

**000**

The blond boy was the last to leave the bed. He and his red-headed and brunette counterparts moved toward the dresser at the opposite end of the hotel room, where bottles of Gatorade and bags of chips sat. They were all of them sweaty, and incredibly nude.

Still on the bed was a fourth boy, wearing a rumpled red wig, now askew, smeared pink lipstick, a ripped pink half-cup bra and nothing else. His skin was a lighter shade of brown, and a pair of glasses sat on the table to his right.

"Hey, get freshened up," the black-haired boy called as he walked over and tossed a large wad of twenties and fifties onto the soiled sheets. "We're gonna want to go for round two pretty soon."

"This is so wrong," Tucker moaned, then snatched up the currency and cuddled it to his cheek. "But _you_make it right!"

The money was tucked into a beret on the night stand, then Tucker picked up a compact and tube of lipstick and got ready for the second half.

**000**

Jake looked down at the rushing waters behind him, then back at the man a few yards away.

"I didn't kill my wife!" Jake cried desperately.

DeMartino shook his head.

"I don't _care_."

**000**

"You are LOVELESS," Jane told the bespectacled girl who sat at the computer, light from the monitor shining in her glasses. "One who is without love."

"And my sister?" Daria spun the chair around, expression carefully blank. "What was her name?"

"She was BELOVED. One who is loved." Jane turned to gaze moodily out the window, suddenly sullen. "And I was her Sacrifice."

She touched the bandages encircling her throat, and all was silence.

**000**

As he listened to the taunting coming from the football team, Kevin's face screwed up in hurt and anger.

"Stop makin' fun of me!"

**000**

Brittany looked up at the costumed man, then around at the scattered muggers laying on the floor of the alley.

"Who are you?" Brittany squeaked.

The man turned, expression grim, and replied, "I'm Bible Man."

**000**

"There's _something_ on the WING!" DeMartino's eye bulged with each stressed word. Sweat poured down his face. "Some **THING!**"

**000**

Jane watched the punk fall and lowered her gun when she was sure he would not be getting up again. She walked over to assess the damage, then stopped dead, eyes wide in her face.

Clutched in the fallen criminal's hand was a mint condition CZ75.


	17. Topsy Turvy

**Topsy-Turvy**  
5/16/11

Quinn knelt on Daria's shoulders, pounding fists into the prone girl's face again and again. Jane stood aside, arms crossed, and frowned as she watched the brutal display. Her eyes were chips of blue ice.

Finally, a pair of large brown arms wrapped around the redhead and lifted her off of the bloody figure splayed on the linoleum. Mack held her easily, and gave no resistance as the petite girl shrugged out of his grip. He took a few steps backward to stand beside Daria as a seething brunette marched up and drew a knife from her hip pocket.

"_No one_," Stacy growled as she pressed the point of the blade to Mack's thick neck. A drop of blood beaded on the tip and slid down. "Touches Quinn."

"Stacy!" Quinn barked, breathing heavily as she wiped her knuckles with a towel. She tossed the blood stained cloth to another brunette, who caught it and held it with a look of nervous disdain. Stacy slowly withdrew the blade, licked it clean and rejoined her mistress. Quinn eyed the large black boy, expression dark under the feathers braided into the left side of her hair. "Consider this a _warning_."

With one last black glare, she turned and walked away.

Jane tossed a last disinterested glance at the brutalized girl on the floor, then turned on the heel of one black leather ankle boot and tossed her expertly coiffed hair as she joined her posse in retreat.

Once the enemy was gone, Tiffany and Charles rushed to their friend's side. Tiffany spoke in a rapid whisper as she checked Daria's pupils, felt her pulse and generally looked the girl over as she calculated the gravity of her injuries. Charles cradled Daria's head in his hands, stroking the blood-matted hair with tear-filled green eyes.

Mack stood guard, alert should the Kyotes return. His expression was grave, eyes smoldering coals in his chiseled face, and he allowed the wound at his throat to flow freely. He focused on the feeling of the blood trickling down his skin, using that sensation to center him, and waited for Kevin to arrive.

He would not like it when he heard what Quinn had done to his girlfriend, and once Brittany went on the warpath to avenge her best friend's attack, there would be all-out war in Lawndale.

The bell rang, signalling the end of Study Hall for half of Lawndale's sophomore class, and in the distance an enraged howl echoed through the halls.

**La la LA la laaa**


	18. Tag Team

**Tag Team**

Daria and Jane regarded each other across the weeping girl's bowed head, and a silent conversation passed between them.

_We have to shut her up._

_But how? We've been trying for the past half hour._

_Chloroform?_

_Left it in my other jacket._

_Taser?_

_Needs charging._

_Damn. Then there's only one way._

When Stacy raised her head to continue her drippy lamentations, Daria reached out a hand and cupped the younger girl's face.

"There, there," Daria crooned in a sultry voice that widened Stacy's bloodshot eyes and froze the sobbing breath in her lungs.

Jane slipped an arm around Stacy's waist from the other side, closing the already minimal distance as she whispered in the girl's ear.

"Daria and Jane gonna make it _alllll_ better," Jane purred.

The outcasts closed in on the beleaguered Fashion Clubber from both sides. A tongue traced the shell of her ear, and soft lips claimed her own as every muscle in Stacy's body first seized up, then melted into goo.

_Eep_, Stacy thought as Daria's tongue entered her mouth, then everything went gray.

**.0.0.**

Stacy floated down the stairs and toward the front door. She almost had her hand on the knob when her mother called out to her.

"Stacy!" Tori Rowe called, frowning as she set her Wall Street Journal aside. "What has gotten into you lately?"

Turning to face the older woman, Stacy radiated a sense of utter peace and contentment. Her long brown hair was now worn loose, face unclouded by makeup and clothes simple. She had returned to her tomboyish roots with denim shorts, a sleeveless tee shirt and old, comfy sneakers.

Tori watched, perplexed, as her daughter smiled.

"I," Stacy answered in a voice of perfect calm. "Have seen paradise."

The door clicked softly with her exit, and Tori could only stare.

"Just what _happened_ at that school Fair?"

**La la LA la laaa**


	19. How Peace Came to Lawndale

**How Peace Came to Lawndale**  
6/3/11

Without warning, Daria exploded into a thousand micro-Darias that could control storms and lightning and shoot laser beams out of their eyes, and would hunt their foes unto the ends of the earth and would not stop until they were dead.

Jane was surprised by this.

In the midst of the chaos, Jane scooped up an errant jar of Vas-o-lube, now depleted, and began scooping up as many as the tiny terrors as she could.

There was no way to predict what happened next.

With a mighty leap, one micro-Daria lodged itself in Jane's left nostril and began singing all of Jane's nose hairs. The resulting smoke drifted down into her throat, and Jane began coughing up skittles, resulting in her eventually vomiting up a rainbow.

The micro-Darias took this as their chance for escape. In single-file, they jumped up onto the rainbow and rode it into the sky, where they rained down upon Lawndale in a hellish storm that would go on to decimate 86% of Lawndale's population.

Those who were left rejoiced, and once all of the micro-Darias once again condensed into one life-sized Daria, the remaining people of Lawndale built a statue in her likeness, complete with a likeness of Jane spewing a rainbow over Daria's head.

All was peace and prosperity in the town from then on.

Jane's nose hairs never did grow back.

* * *

Instigated by **brietasparrow** over on the PPMB. Check her out on deviantart at brietasparrow (dot) deviantart (dot) com.


	20. Bad Timing

**Bad Timing**

Daria had just stepped out of the shower when the bathroom door swung inward and Max stood staring from the doorway.

"Uh..." he commented smartly, just before a bottle of body lotion met his forehead with considerable force.

Daria, face aflame and eyes burning fury, grabbed a towel and held it to her front as she plucked the toothpaste from the sink and launched it with deadly accuracy.

"Get," she growled as she advanced. "OUT!"

Max got one last glimpse of side-boob and bare leg before he was shoved backward, and the door slammed in his abused face.

**o.o.o**

Trent and Jesse returned from their pizza run to find Max strumming Trent's acoustic guitar and scribbling on a rumpled sheet of note paper. Nick sat by, waist-deep in a world of savage semi-humans, plastic money and the only hope for the human race's continued existence pinned on the narrow shoulders of an exiled boy. When his band mates entered the basement and looked to him for explanation, Nick raised his head, gazed at them over the tops of his reading glasses and shrugged.

The pizza was handed around on paper plates. When finally Max looked up to accept his food, he sighed heavily and pressed a hand to his heart. Trent cocked an eyebrow, gestured to the page, and took it up at the drummer's nod.

_Like Venus rising from the sea _  
_Dripping water on the tiles _  
_Skin like berries and cream _  
_Hidden under rough textile_

_Secret goddess in the steam _  
_Turn to me with angry eyes _  
_So much more than what you seemed _  
_Wish I could stay and learn a while_

_With burning eyes _  
_You hypnotize _  
_You cauterize _  
_With burning eyes_

_Your burning eyes _  
_Have cut all ties _  
_I may just die for _  
_Your burning eyes_

Trent's other eyebrow rose to join its brother and he shook his head as Jesse took the page from his hand. Somehow, he got the impression that this was the reason for Daria's foul mood earlier that day.

"Max," Trent called to the bald man, and the drummer looked up with half a slice hanging out of his mouth. "Did you walk in on Daria?"

Somehow, Max managed to sigh dreamily through the bread and cheese stuffed in his maw. He nodded.

"And you're not planning on trying anything, right?" After a hesitation, Max shrugged. Trent glared. "Remember when you walked in on Janey, and thought you'd try to get with her after our McGrundy's gig?"

Nick pulled his glasses off and shook his head, mournfully.

"I missed a visitation sitting in the ER with you, man."

"I never saw anyone get a nipple ring ripped out before," Jesse commented vaguely. "It haunts me."

Trent nodded as Max winced. Trent took the song back from Jesse and dropped it by Max's plate.

"Daria isn't as nice as Janey. Remember that." The warning having been issued, Trent took his guitar back from Max and started strumming. "Cool song, though. If we work on it for a while, we can use it for tomorrow's gig."

The matter closed, Mystik Spiral went to work abusing their instruments in a half-assed attempt at making music.

**o.o.o**

After the band went home that night, Trent ran into Daria in the kitchen. She had just put a slice into the microwave to heat. A second sitting on a paper plate on the table waited for similar treatment.

"Janey's back." It was an observation rather than a question.

"Yeah," Daria replied tersely. The microwave beeped, she removed the plate and replaced it with the other slice.

"Sorry about this morning."

There were thirty seconds of silence as Daria waited for the microwave to beep a second time. When she had both plates in hand, she turned her head just enough to catch Trent with the corner of one eye.

"Next time I leave the bathroom door unlocked for you," she hissed, just loud enough for him to hear. "_Be on time_."

Then she was gone, on her way to Jane's room with their snack.

Trent frowned, looked down at the watch Daria had given him and tapped the face. He fiddled with it for a second, then held it up to his ear. Silence. The battery was dead.

Shaking his head, the musician opened the fridge in search of a beer he had left there several weeks before. The one day he actually needed to know what time it was, his watch battery dies. Talk about bad timing.

**La la LA la laaa**


	21. The Enemy

"**The Enemy**"  
7/6/11

Daria and Jane were walking along, being sarcastic and whatnot as always. Suddenly, Jane turned her head as they were passing a park and saw a lone chicken standing by the monkey bars. It narrowed its blank eyes at the artist and seemed to sneer.

"Wait a minute," Jane said, snarling. "I _know_ that chicken!"

As Daria watched, Jane pulled a bazooka out of thin air and sighted on the delicious, delicious menace in the playground.

"Tell the Colonel I said hello!" Jane crowed, and fired.

There were several horrible explosions as first the missile hit, and then the glycerine in the play sand in the sand box ignited. It took out the jungle gym and swings with it, and when all was said and done, the park was a hellish inferno.

Jane grinned.

"Take _that_, suckah!"

Daria, beside her where they sheltered behind an over-turned car, stared in shock and incredulity.

Jane's smile faltered as something seemed to be moving in the flames.

From within the destruction, a small white form emerged. Its eyes glowing red, a shine of silver gleamed from a gash over its beak.

And then all hell broke loose.


	22. Rendezvous

**Rendezvous**

It was dark. There were few streetlights in this part of Lawndale, and at this time of night, there was no one around.

A perfect place for a romantic rendezvous.

A figure in a trench coat sauntered up out of the murk and stopped beside a particular telephone pole. The words "Tony Luv" were carved into the wood at chest height.

The coat fell open, revealing a thin but muscled chest, flat stomach and a shockingly pink pair of women's underwear.

"Well, _well_," Anthony DeMartino crooned at the pole, stroking one finger down its side seductively. "Fancy meeting YOU here."

There was no witness to their love but the night itself.


	23. He Shall Be Mine

"**He Shall Be Mine**"

"Come on, Daria," Jane muttered, leaning toward her friend. Daria's face remained turned away. "Just talk to him."

"Mrrr," Daria commented smartly, and Jane rolled her eyes in frustration.

"Daria, this isn't some airhead jock or stuck-up preppie we're talking about, here," Jane lectured in a stern voice. "This is _Bob_-as in THE Bob, as in _Robert Freakin' Carter_. Every alternative, goth, punk, and any other genus of sub-culture chick in Lawndale High has been after him since freshman year-but he wants _you_."

Daria's cheeks flushed hotly and she turned her head to glance back over her shoulder at the green-haired boy behind her.

Jane glared at her friend, blue eyes hard as marble, and jabbed a finger at the bespectacled girl for emphasis.

"So just what the hell do you plan to do about it? Are you gonna sit there like a pussy and let the opportunity pass by?" Just then the bell rang and students rose to exit the classroom. Jane was one of these, slinging her backpack over one shoulder and glaring down at her seated friend. "Or are you gonna woman up and just take a damn chance for once?"

Jane turned and walked out before Daria could even think of a response.

Most of the students had left by the time Daria got to her feet. She and Bob were the last to rise and move toward the door. Just as he was passing the diminutive auburn-haired girl, Bob turned his head and flashed her a brief smile. Before her more cowardly instincts could catch up with her, Daria put out a hand and tapped Bob's shoulder.

"Um, Bob?" He turned immediately, a hopeful expression shining in his dark eyes. With a deep breath, Daria took the plunge. "Are you busy today?"

Bob's smile widened. Slowly, he reached out and wrapped a large hand around Daria's and squeezed.

"I am now."

**End**.

For the pic this fic came from, visit thatLONERchick(dot)deviantart(dot)com.


	24. World's Shortest Crossover III

"CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG!"

Daria belched, then laughed giddily into the microphone.

"It tastes like pink!" she cried. "IT TASTES LIKE PINK! _PIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNKKKK!_"

-

Tad and Tricia gazed down into the tank containing the frogs Tricia's class had recently acquired as their new classroom pets. It was her turn to take care of them for the weekend, but they seemed to be acting strangely.

"Tad," Tricia murmured, frowning. "What does the bigger one have on its head?"

"I don't know." He squinted, concentrating. "It looks kind of like a helmet."

"Kero kero!" the frog declared, shaking its little froggy fist. "Kero!"

Had Tad and Tricia ever studied inter-species linguistics at their elementary school, they would have paled at the frog's declaration: _Foolish humans! We will conquer!_

-

"She's a MRF."

Tom blinked at the black-suited man, uncomprehending.

"A what?"

"A Mentally Retarded Female."

Tom looked over at Tiffany, who was staring at her reflection in a window and kept reaching out, trying to touch the girl in front of her. She frowned each time her hand hit the glass, and tried again.

Tom slapped his hand to his face, chagrined.

"Son of a _bitch_."

-

"ART! _IS!_ **_LIFE!_**" Jane screamed at the pocket radio, spittle flying from her lips as she raved. "WITHOUT ART, COMIC BOOKS WOULD BE BUT BRIEF! _**NOVELS!**_"

-

Holding a chair over his head in a vaguely threatening manner, Mack's eyes bugged out of his head.

"_He's got both arms!_" he yelled. "GET 'IM!"

Tom and Max seized the bellhop, threw him down on the carpet and worked to pull his jacket off.

"What are you doing?" the alarmed blond yelled, eyes wide behind his glasses. "_Are you raping?_"

"No!" Link tried to get through as Max and Tom ripped the prone man's sleeve off. "No one's raping! We're not raping!"

It was understandable that the bellhop, whose name tag read Ted, did not entirely believe him.

-

Daria's eyes were fever-bright, almost frenzied, and her breath came in small gasps of excitement.

"I know what 'if you build it, they will come' means."

She told him.

Tom sighed. "I'll go to Home Depot."

That night, as the couple stood staring at the completed stage, a lone spotlight suddenly came to life and all at once, there was a band standing on the wood.

"Hey, we're Mystik Spiral," the headman spoke into the microphone. "But we're thinking about changing the name."

"Oh, _come on!_" Tom turned to his wife, expecting a similar reaction, only to find Daria at the foot of the stage, swinging her tee shirt over her head and whooping like a siren.

-

"Prepare for the flaming hand of fiery doom!" the dark sorceress called as she readied her spell, but the demon only grinned and shot a high-powered lightning bolt at the party.

The Bard exploded.

Mack threw away his dead character sheet, pulled another from the stack in his folder and slammed it down onto the table.

"Swell," Tom snarked. "Now we get to be struck down by a thunder-wielding midget. I suggest we abandon the town, it's doomed anyway."

Daria shook her head. "Chuck still has the spell, if he can cast it-"

"I'm afraid that unless I have some manner of cover," Charles sighed. "I will be deceased before the spell is half-cast."

Mack looked up slowly, his eyes alight with unexpected triumph.

"Hide behind the mound," he exclaimed grandly. "Of dead Bards!"

-

"Welcome, gentlemen," an attractive black-haired woman behind the bar said with a heavy Welsh accent. Her eyes were bright blue, and they quickly examined the two visitors with a thoroughness that seemed casual. "What may I do for you?"

"Whiskey, babe," Sloane said, grinning around his cigar. "Best poison you've got."

She uncorked a jug and poured him a murky shot glass full. "Only poison we've got, if you don't count ale and bitters." She smiled, a sultry smile with a challenge in it.

"Nothing for me, but I would like some information." Dewitt-Clinton warmed his hands before the stove. "We're looking for a man who lives around here. His name is Michael Mackenzie. Do you-"

"Oh, yes," she said, and her eyes glinted. "I do know Michael."

-

Monique looked up just in time to see Trent walk into the club, holding a cage. A beautiful white bird perched within, and Monique smiled.

She took a deep breath, swelling the four-leaf clover tattoo on her chest, and closed her eyes.

The song came to an abrupt end as a shot rang out, ripping through Monique's body and shredding her costume's gauzy wings.

Her last thought was of Trent, a mixed cocktail of love and regret.

_I could never be...your Four Leaf Clover_.

-

Tom grinned around at the world from atop his horse, drew a deep breath and started singing.

"The sky is blue, and all the leaves are green!  
The sun's as warm as a baked po-ta-tah!  
I think I know precisely what I mean  
When I say it's a shpadoinkle day!"

-

Jane grinned.

"Evan came crawling back, but I told him to shove it. So, I'm single now. Everything's changed! I hate it."

Before he could reply, a blue and yellow blur came rocketing into him from out of nowhere, and strong hands had seized his shirt.

"Gimme my Jeep keys!" Kevin slurred desperately.

Tom grabbed Kevin's shoulders and shook him back.

"You must chill! You _must_ chill!" Jodie looked on, eyes wide, unsure whether it was safe to laugh. "I have hidden your keys! Chill!"

-

Quinn smiled demurely at the applause which followed her reading, closed her book and turned to face her host.

"Lucky is the man who has inspired your poet's heart," Angier Sloane intoned, and Quinn laughed gaily.

"The only form she's mastered is a whore's," Skylar slurred, them grinned at Quinn's discomposed face. Angier and Tom turned on him, but not before Skylar got another blow in. "Honestly, I didn't think Uncle was still capable of _getting it up_," he stage whispered.

Quinn's jaw was growing tighter, a fact Skylar relished.

"What did you do to him to get him to publish this little book of ditties?"

"She worked for it," Tom gritted around clenched teeth. Skylar sneered.

"I'm sure she did. What do you cost these days, Quinn?"

"If your prick is as limp as your verse," Quinn replied with an easy smile. "No price could possibly purchase time enough."

The assemblage broke into laughter at Skylar's discomfiture, and he laughed as he drew his rapier and slashed Quinn's book in half. She studied the stump in her hands gravely as Angier and Tom hauled the inebriated man back, and forced an apology. Her expression was unreadable as Skylar wandered away, and as Tom came to her side, Quinn reached down and drew his sword.

The crowd muttered and chattered as Quinn followed Skylar into the garden.

"Have you the guts to try again?" Quinn challenged as she drew Skylar's sword from his hip with the tip of her own and held it before his bleary face. "Blade to blade, and pen to pen?"

Smiling, Skylar took up the sword and accepted Quinn's challenge.

-

After a bit of playful tussling, the other two J's elected Jeffy as their representative. He raised his hand, and their substitute teacher nodded at him to speak.

"Mr. Edwards," Jeffy laughed. "Why'd you decide to become a teacher?"

Edwards stared at the ginger for a few tense moments, then cocked his head to the side at an odd angle.

"**I LIKE HIGH SCHOOL GIIIIIRRRRLSSS!**" he practically bellowed.

-

Ramona sat onstage playing her tambourine, with Tad on drums. They smiled like little angels as they sang, and the crowd ate it up.

"Let the sun shine in!  
Face it with a grin.  
Smilers never lose,  
And frowners never win!

"So let the sun shine in  
Face it with a grin.  
Open up your heart and let the sun shine in!

"Let the sun shine in!"

-

Mad Dog held the candle flame up to illuminate his flat brown eyes as Jake watched from the other side of the bars.

"There, you see? I'm quite dead."

-

Jane gasped and grunted happily as she rode her boyfriend in the Pizza Forest bathroom. She hung onto the stall door with one hand, the wall with the other, as she bounced on the giant squirrel and endeavored to be quiet about it. He still wore his costume, but had removed the head and unzipped the suit enough to get down to business.

"Janey-waney," Kevin panted, really into it, and started to speed up. "Janey-waney, Janey-waney, _Janey wa_-"

Having gotten a bit carried away, Kevin bounced his girlfriend against the unlocked door and Jane flew backward out of the stall. She landed on the cold tiles with an undignified _oof_, right at her co-worker's feet.

Stacy leaned down to check on her assistant-manager, expression harried.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm-I just- there's so much to do!" Jane improvised, desperate to distract the pigtailed girl from the embarrassing situation as Kevin gathered his head and attempted to sneak off. "I'm dizzy, the room is spinning! _Make it stop spinning!_"

"Well, you better pull yourself together," Stacy whispered as she moved to take Jane's arm and help her up. "Mr. DeMartino's back, and he's P-I-S-E-D!"

Jane blinked, nonplussed. "Pised?"

-

Daria opened her eyes to darkness, glanced over at the bedside clock and sighed. 2:37. She wasn't getting any more sleep tonight. Wearily, she levered herself out of bed and shuffled over to sit in her recliner and take up her now-nightly vigil at the front window.

As she watched the empty street, her eyes widened. A pair of very short, bald doctors had just exited from Mrs. Blaine's house across the street. They stood talking on her stoop and  
Daria's heart skipped a beat when she noticed the one on the right holding a pair of large, sharp scissors.

-

Mack held the cordless phone loosely in one hand, a twenty-pound hand weight in the other. He was doing bicep curls without bothering to count as he spoke.

"Say it so I can _hear_ you!"

On the other end of the phone line, Tom sat at his desk pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut in frustrated humiliation.

"**SHOOOOOWW MEEEE THE MOOOOONNNEEEEEEY!**"

"That's _right!_" Mack hung up the phone and tossed it on the counter, then went back to his workout.

-

"_Necessary?_ Is it NECESSARY for me to _drink_ my own URINE?"

Tom blinked. "No, I mean, I hope no-"

"No, but I do it ANYWAY because it's _sterile_ and I like THE TASTE."

-

Daria watched the accountant hyperventilate on her carpet, tugging at her braids and jibbering like a fool, and turned her eyes upward.

"They come here, they all come here," Daria muttered. "_How do they find me?_"

-

"Do you know," Tom said softly, "what it's like to love someone so much, that you can't see yourself without picturing her? Or what it's like to touch someone, and feel like you've come home?" He made a fist, and rested it in the palm of his other hand. "What we had wasn't about sex, or about being with someone just to show off what you've got, the way it was for other kids our age. We were, well, meant to be together. Some people spend their whole lives looking for that one person," he said. "I was lucky enough to have her all along."

-


	25. As in French

This one is dedicated to breitasparrow (breitasparrow-dot-deviantart-dot-com), because she so generously gave me the idea this afternoon.

"**As in French**"

"Excuse me."

The large man looked up to see a pair of girls standing before him. One was short with large, unattractive glasses and long hair, the other taller with short, dark hair and bright red lipstick. Tommy Sherman scoffed.

"You're kidding, right? You think I'm going to talk to you?" He turned his head to the tall brunette, smirked. "You, maybe. Like, four hours into a kegger."

Jane smirked coldly. "Perhaps after I vomit on your shoes?"

Daria was silent for a moment, then smiled saucily and took a step forward. Jane blinked in astonishment as Daria swung her hips seductively, catching and keeping Tommy's attention with no visual effort.

"I know a party we could go to," she crooned, wetting her lips with the tip of her pink tongue. Tommy mimicked her action unconsciously. "Right. _Now._"

Jane stood dumbstruck as Daria led Tommy toward the side door that would let out on the empty football field. Just before they turned the corner, Daria looked back and winked.

Shaking her head, Jane leaned back against Daria's locker and waited for the fireworks.

**o.o.o**

The grunting and hooting coming from behind the new Tommy Sheridan memorial goalpost was incredibly amusing to the workers left behind to clean up after the construction. A few stifled snorts as the man began to chant his own name in what was obviously a buildup to orgasm, while a deadpan female voice repeated "oh god, oh god, yes" over and over in the most unenthusiastic voice they had ever heard.

None of them noticed the goalpost beginning to rock.

With a mighty cry of "_Tommy **SHERMAAANNNN!**_" there came a crack, and the goalpost tipped over. There was another crack as it struck home, and a petite form rolled out of the way just in time for the crates left leaning against the bleachers to fall over on top of the former football star.

As the workers burst into panic and began running about, waving their arms and screaming, a slow smile curled Daria's lips. She crossed her booted feet on the grass and leaned back as Jane made short work of the distance from the door to her friend. Panting not with exertion but relief, Jane heaved a sigh and dropped to the grass beside the bespectacled girl.

"What happened?" Their eyes found the pile of crap resting on the school hero, and Daria's smile widened.

"_La petite mort_, as the French say." Daria smirked, and stood. Jane soon followed and together, they left the field just as a flood of students burst though the doors.

"So, was it any good?" Jane wheedled, nudging Daria with her elbow. The reticent loner smiled thinly and hitched her backpack higher on her shoulder.

"The earth moved," she drawled. Jane groaned at the off-color joke, and the duo walked toward History.

**La la LA la laaa.**


	26. End of the Rope

**End of the Rope**

Quinn pulled the shop door open, took a deep breath and stepped inside.

She gave her best smile as she walked up to the counter and pulled a velvet bag out of her purse.

First, she laid out her big-ticket items: braided gold chains with large pendants. There were hearts, stars, teardrops, diamond-studded journeys and solid gold lockets. Then she started pulling out the bracelets, the rings and what seemed to be a hundred pairs of earrings. There were studs, hoops, teardrops, chandeliers-it was like a mini jewelry shop.

As each item was laid out, the clerk took them and began the testing. Each item passed and was dropped onto a small scale. When the scale was full, an amount was written on a slip of paper, the scale was unloaded and the process started over.

When all was said and done, over three pounds of solid gold had been priced and the clerk handed Quinn the slip with the amount. She stared impassively down at the number and nodded.

A large stack of bills had replaced the jewelry in the velvet bag, which was then deposited in Quinn's purse. She left the Cash For Gold shop with a heavy heart, but the few thousand dollars weighing down her shoulder lightened the burden, if only a little. At the very least, it would buy them some time until she could find a decent job.

Walking down the street in the direction of the grocery store, Quinn laid a hand on her swollen abdomen and fought back tears.

"Don't worry, pumpkin," she whispered to her baby where it slept inside her. "Mommy will take care of you."

If worse came to worst, she still had her wedding ring; it was the last resort at the end of a fraying rope.


	27. The Gift

**The Gift**  
5/26/11

Jane and Daria were at the Pizza King, discussing the bespectacled girl's dilemma.

"You could always go the easy route and get him an Herb-Grow Roadkill," Jane suggested with a shrug.

Daria scoffed. "After he tried to pass the one _you_ bought him on to me, then you, I don't think that's the best option."

"Mm," Jane agreed. "Well, he has to want something."

"That's the thing," Daria lamented, staring into the depths of her Ultra Cola. "He's rich; if he wants something, he just buys it. What the hell could I possibly give him that he doesn't have already?"

Jane was silent as she studied her friend, awash in melancholia so thick, Daria was even neglecting her pizza.

"Well," Jane mused. "There is _one_ thing..."

**o.o.o**

Tom was smiling dubiously as he was led into what a room, blindfolded and with a pair of small hands his only guidance. Finally a light was snapped on, and the blindfold was allowed to be removed.

What he saw nearly blinded him in shock.

Daria smiled as she sat perched on the edge of Tom's bed, naked save for a soft pink ribbon wrapped strategically around her slim body.

"Come open your present."

**La la LA la laaa.**  
The Gift iron chef PPMB.


	28. Tony Sees the Light

**Tony Sees the Light**  
6/21/11

Kevin walked into DeMartino's class ten minutes before first period. DeMartino glared dispassionately at the youth, but the expression slipped when he took in the uncharacteristic pensive expression on the boy's face.

"Uh, Mr. De? Can I ask you a favor?"

DeMartino frowned at the QB, immediately suspicious.

"What _kind_ of favor, **Kevin?**"

"Uh, well..." Kevin shrugged his shoulders, uncomfortable, and looked down at his cleats as he spoke. "'Kay, see, yesterday at practice Coach made me rush the tackle without a helmet, cuz he said I broke too many and there's no money in the budget to get more so now we have to practice without 'em. I kinda hit my head and got all dizzy, but Coach made me do it again until I got 'em all they way across the field." Kevin frowned and rubbed the side of his head. "It kinda hurt."

DeMartino's expression was changing rapidly, eyes widening with every word his student spoke.

"So, like, I went home and remembered I had to do this week's homework cuz, you know, grades and stuff. I was gonna start with that essay Mr. O wanted us to write, but...um..."

"But _what_, son?"

Kevin glanced up, encouraged by the gentle rumble of DeMartino's voice. A desperate kind of sorrow radiated outward from Kevin's brown eyes and his voice trembled as he whispered, "I couldn't remember how to spell my name."

In that moment, Anthony DeMartino made a decision that would forever change his life, Kevin's, and that of every student at Lawndale High.

"Will you help me?" Kevin asked, and Anthony rose swiftly from his chair, grabbing his jacket on the way.

"You _bet_ your **ASS**, I will," he growled, and led Kevin out the door.

Two hours later, Kevin's MRI and CT scan results were sent out.

Doug and Charlene Thompson were in custody that night.

Angela Li and Coach Henry Gibson were in custody by the end of the week.

Kevin Thompson became Kevin DeMartino three months shy of his eighteenth birthday. He graduated high school at the age of nineteen, and went on to become a successful physical education teacher and very dedicated, protective football coach at the new Lawndale High.

No student was ever again given a by on a test.

**End.**


	29. Student Bodies

**Student Bodies**  
2/10/12

Daria and Jane walked into the Lawndale High cafeteria, expressions unusually serious. Jane carried a beat up black Ghetto blaster on her right shoulder.

The duo marched to the center of the room, and Daria nodded to Jane, who donned a pair of large black sunglasses and hit a button on the boombox.

There was a second's delay as the cafeteria held its collective breath.

Then the music started.

Daria's lips curled into a sassy, seductive smile as she started dancing to the music, slowly unzipping her jacket and then tossing it away. Her orange shirt was next, and she pulled it up inch by inch as she turned in a slow circle. A glittery, skin tight mint greet tank top sat under her shirt, and her hands moved to her skirt zipper.

Jane stood off to one side, head bobbing to the music, expression deathly serious.

Daria dropped her skirt, stepped out and kicked it off of her right boot. It flew through the air to hit Kevin in the face. He grinned as the garment slid into his lap.

Daria stood in her tank top, a pair of black spandex booty shorts and knee pads. The music stopped abruptly and she pulled a pair of large, round black shades from behind her back. They snapped onto the front of her glasses and she nodded.

"Check it."

Heavy music suddenly blasted from the boombox, and Daria launched into a fast, complicated dance to match. Jane walked over to the nearest table and slammed the radio down next to Mack's hand. As she marched over to join Daria, she stripped off her red shirt and black V-neck to reveal a scarlet sports bra. She then joined her friend mid-step as the cafeteria burst to its feet, cheering and egging them on.

To everyone's surprise, Jodie was suddenly there with them. She had abandoned her shirt and platform shoes, braids flying about her as she moved.

Brittany squealed and flipped into the center of the triangle the three girls made, and the four of them moved as one.

The music came to its abrupt end, and the girls stood in various poses in the center of the room, students screaming around them. Daria pulled the snap-on shades off of the front of her glasses and tossed them into the crowd.

Jane retrieved her radio and together, she and Daria strutted out of the double doors.

The bell calling an end to lunch followed them out.

**End.**


	30. First Impressions

**"First Impressions"**  
5/17/12

Jane walked into self esteem class and saw the new girl sitting in the front row. Jane frowned and took a seat behind her.

Halfway through O'Neill's opening speech, the girl raised her hand and interrupted.

Jane grit her teeth and stood.

"Excuse me," the new girl butted in, and O'Neill's pleasant smile faltered. "What doe-"

Jane grabbed a handful of her thick auburn hair and slammed her face bodily into the surface of the desk. Pencil and papers scattered. Blood splashed across the desk and floor as her nose broke and lips split open.

"No questions," Jane snarled. O'Neill stood and walked over to the bloody girl's desk. He caught a clump of hair in his dainty fingers and raised her ruined face to his own.

"Question and answer time is later," he informed her in his quiet voice.

His fingers opened and her head thumped back down. There were no more disturbances.


	31. Death of Memes

"**Death of Memes**"

"I will kill myself," Daria decided, standing on the school roof and overlooking the campus. "For I am an emo child, depressed that my self-inflicted isolation has led the world to misunderstand me. Also, I will disregard my intolerance for pain and thus slit my wrists, like so."

She produced one of Jane's X-acto knives and slit her wrists. Like so.

Jane, who had been standing next to her this whole time, nodded and took the blade from her.

"I will also kill myself," Jane stated, face sculpted into an expression of extreme sorrow and confusion. "For I am a closet lesbian, outcast by my unrequited love for the friend who has left me alone forever. I will bind myself to her by using the instrument that has killed her, like so."

Jane also slit her wrists. Trent sighed moodily from behind the girls.

"I will also kill myself," Trent murmured, cloaked in an aura of sexy, sexy tragedy. "For I have lost the girl I have loved for two years, but was too ashamed to admit because I'm a shiftless dreamer with no ambition. And I also lost the sister I raised from a child, whose love for Daria we shared in a misery only such close siblings can share."

He took the blade from Jane's hand, and too slit his wrists. Broodingly.

"_We're bound in blood_  
_ It can do no good_  
_ To cry or brood_  
_ Cuz I'm a dead dude_

_Gonna sleep in the dirt_  
_ Nothing more can hurt_  
_ Than this emo flood_  
_ Cuz we're bound in blood_."

The three bowed, lay on the hot tar of the school roof, and thus died.


	32. A Question

**A Question**  
6/7/12

My name is Skylar Feldman.

I'm currently a Junior at Lawndale High School. I'm popular, attractive, well liked, and can afford to take dates to Chez Pierre once a week.

I'm also known as the school psycho.

The roomer has been going on for the past year and a half or so. There's no proof to any of them, but the stories say I'm abusive-physically, mostly, but sometimes verbally too-or sexually depraved. The more serious rumors call me a rapist. Some say I'm a murderer.

But girls keep going out with me. I think they're disappointed when they realize I'm just a normal guy.

So where are the rumors coming from?

Quinn.

I almost went out with Quinn Morgendorffer once. But it ended when I found out she was planning to dump me in the fall to go out with my best friend. That was our entire history. One almost-date that was ended by a brutally organized planned betrayal.

I joined the drama club after that. People say I'm pretty good.

Quinn and I parted ways, and never spoke of it again. We never dated, never talked in the halls, and when we do pass it's with barely an acknowledgement. She isn't the type to start a malicious rumor for no reason.

So where did it come from?

I'm a good guy. I have good friends, I treat my parents alright, I'm even nice to my little sister. I don't litter, don't get parking or speeding tickets, and I [i]don't[/i] rape and murder my dates. I even do alright in school for such a popular guy.

So why me?

Every time I see that Daria girl walking through the halls with her friend, that artist who used to do track, and she looks over at me with those sharp eyes, I can't help but wonder if maybe she has something to do with it.

But still...

Why me?


	33. Psychosteemsters

**Psychosteemsters**  
6/8/12

Mrs. Manson held the flash card up to Daria, a patronizing smile stretching her thin mouth.

"Dara, can you make up a story like your sister's?"

Daria stared dispassionately at the woman, then grabbed the Rubik's cube off of the desk and solved it in just a few seconds. She slammed it down in front of the teacher and stormed out.

The next day during dinner, a call was made to the house.

"Yes, this is her mother. I see." A glance in Daria's direction. "Thank you for calling."

As Helen took her seat, she shot her husband a sharp look.

"Daria, that was the school psychologist. She thinks you have deep-seated, uncontrolled rage and would like you to take a special class for a few weeks."

"_Ha!_" Quinn crowed, grinning. "Daria's a psycho!"

"_Quinn!_" Helen sighed. "Well, I always knew you took after your father's side of the family."

Jake's head snapped up, eyes burning like the fires of hell.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean? Are you judging her? My little girl's _normal_, dammit! NORMAL!"

Jake picked up his plate and hurled it across the room, where it smashed against the far wall. As he stormed off, Helen picked up her fork with a resigned expression.

"He always does that with my best dishes."

Unnoticed, Daria picked up her knife, turned it so that the light reflected off the blade and smiled at her sister.

Quinn wet herself on the spot.

**La la LA la laaa**


	34. Production Value

"**Production Value**"  
6/12/12

Jane stormed through Daria's front door, hair mussed and lipstick smeared. Her red jacket hung off of one shoulder and she carried her bra, a red lace confection with a pair of hearts over the tips of the cups, in her left hand.

"Home made porn is a pain in the ass," Jane growled as she stalked into the kitchen and poured herself a shot from Helen's hidden vodka bottle. It was stashed in the cabinet with her wedding presents from Jake's mother: a full homemaker's set of pots and pans.

Daria stood at the counter, assembling a plate of nachos. She stared at her friend, brows knit in confusion.

"But weren't you and Trent the only ones h-"

She dropped the bag of cheese, turned on her heel and marched upstairs. Jane watched her go. She sighed deeply and was just pouring herself another shot when Daria returned, toting her father's camcorder and a camera bag full of supplies.

"I keep telling you, Jane: production value."

Jane grinned and knocked back her shot. "We finally doing the Naughty Librarian?"

"As long as I get to be the girl this time."

**La la LA la laaa**


	35. When In Doubt

"**When In Doubt**"  
6/13/12

Quinn crouched in the darkness, eyes darting from side to side, and worked the lock with skilled fingers. She held a slim slip of metal between her lips, and slowly slid it into the lock beside a second piece. She worked for only a few seconds before the lock popped with a satisfying _click_.

Petal pink lips curled into a smile.

Gloved fingers turned the knob, and she was through the door.

A penlight held in her mouth provided the only illumination, and Quinn worked quickly, going through drawers in search of her prize. Working from the bottom, she searched the dresser drawers until finally, she pulled something from the top drawer with an internal crow of triumph.

Quinn bounced out of the room and closed the door behind her.

**o.o.o**

Daria returned at four o'clock to find her parents waiting for her. Quinn smirked from the couch beside their mother.

Helen held a familiar spiral-bound notebook in her hands, opened to the previous weekend's entry.

"Daria," Helen greeted, voice firm. "We need to talk."

After shooting a glance in her sister's direction, Daria sat, expression carefully blank.

"I've raised my hourly rates," Daria deadpanned. "So unless you have eighty thousand dollars to burn, I'd appreciate it if you make this quick."

"Daria, this will take as long as it needs to."

"Hey, it's your dime."

Helen took a deep breath, as if to calm herself, and raised the notebook.

"Quinn found this in your room this afternoon, when she went in to borrow a book."

Daria raised an eyebrow at her sister, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"The short leg on your desk wobbling again?"

"I was looking for something to read!"

"I'm sorry, we don't carry pop up books."

"Girls!" Helen barked. "Daria, I read some of the things you've been writing in this 'journal' of yours. And I'm quite bothered."

Quinn's smile was bright with expected triumph.

"Threesomes at Jane's, Brittany Taylor in the girls' locker room, Mr. Demartino in the teacher's lounge when you were supposed to be having detention?"

Jake's eyes popped out and his face went red with what looked like a stroke.

Helen slapped the book down on the coffee table.

"If you're going to leave a decoy journal lying around, you could at least write something somewhat believable!"

Quinn gaped, and Jake stopped choking.

Daria made a show of checking her watch.

"Well if we're done here, you can settle your bill with a pizza and owe me the other seven thousand dollars. Cash is preferred."

Daria picked up her backpack and adjourned to her room.

**o.o.o**

Jane dropped her pencil in her geometry book and reached for the trilling phone.

"Yo."

"Quinn went snooping again. My lock was picked when I got home today. Mom read my journal."

Jane's china-blue eyes went wide.

"Should I forward your mail to the military school, or the nunnery?"

"Neither. They thought it was a decoy."

Jane laughed, shaking her head in incredulity. "You left your real journal in the decoy spot?"

"Of course. Who would ever believe the truth?"

Jane grinned and leaned back in her chair. "So we're still on for Burning Sunday?"

"You provide the acid. I'll bring the toys."

**La la LA la laaa**


	36. A Regret

**A Regret**

Daria stood in a corner of Brittany's living room, watching the popular people interact. An internal commentary was running through her mind, rude and witty comments on the goings on she had no one to share with.

After a few minutes, she was approached by a red-haired boy she recognized from science lab. He covered his nervouness with false bravado. Daria felt a spark of hope she quickly squashed.

They traded sarcasm for a few moments, then Daria decided she had had enough for one evening and turned to go.

"See you in class," the boy called, and Daria found herself smiling, if only slightly. She waved and walked out into the night.

She had no ride waiting for her. Her sister had come with some boys from her grade, but Daria had walked there alone. She turned her feet in the direction of home, and just as she was leaving the gate a car squealed around the corner and hit her head-on.

Her last thoughts as the color bled out of the world were of the boy at the party, smiling hopefully down at her.

"What's your name?"

"Esmeralda."

_I should have told him my name_, she thought, and was gone.

"Jane's Subtraction" Iron Chef.


	37. Improbability

"**Improbability**"  
6/25/12

"**THE GODS HAVE FORSAKEN US!**" Angela Li screamed into the PA system as pandemonium consumed Lawndale High.

Mr. DeMartino and Mrs. Barch were fist fighting in the hall as Tori Jericho was lassoed with her purse strap and dragged behind two goths as they galloped about. A nerdy boy with glasses and a tee-shirt with an enormous head on the front rode Kevin Thompson like a rodeo bull, cackling madly as he urged the QB on with smacks to the head.

Brittany Taylor ran down the hall toward the exit doors shrieking, pursued by a nude and _extremely_ excited Charles Ruttheimer. The Fashion Club followed him, finding in his lack of attire a merit to his company none had previously dare consider.

Michael Mackenzie and Ms. Defoe rutted furiously against a wall while Jodie looked on, tongue down Andrea Hecuba's throat.

Ted DeWitt-Clinton darted about, laying into random students and teachers with an un-sharpened but very real sword. He blew an enormous bubble that consumed his head in a cloud of pink stickiness and crowed victory.

"**CRY MERCY!**" Ms. Li screamed as Mr. O'Neill pounded her from behind. Ms. Li was bent over her desk, eyes rolling in mingled terror and ecstasy.

Cain rose up in Lawndale High, and Jane Lane stood in the center of it, basking in the bedlam.

**o.o.o**

Helen and Jake Morgendorffer stared at their youngest daughter, unsettled beyond words. She sat at the kitchen table, ignoring her dinner. She licked and sucked at a Popsicle, hair disheveled, expression indecently content, enjoying herself entirely too much for their liking. They turned their attention to their eldest.

"What did _you_ do today, Daria?" Helen asked brightly, eyes twitching back and forth between her daughters.

Daria took a bite of lasagna, then faced her parents with no expression.

"I joined the Cheer leading Squad."

Every mirror in the house shattered with Helen and Jake's cries of shock.

Daria smiled.

**La la LA la laaaa**


	38. Careful What you Wish For

"**Careful What You Wish For**"

Daria placed the phone in the cradle and slowly pulled her hand back. She stared at the construct of plastic and metal for a moment, then swung her legs up onto her bed and flopped back against the pillow.

Her eyes strayed to the crack in the ceiling, the stories she and Jane would fabricate to go with the changing shapes in the plaster. But she had not seen Jane outside of school for weeks.

_I kissed your boyfriend_, she had blurted in a moment of weakness. _I kissed Tom._

Jane had run off, and not returned.

Until that day.

Captain of the Track team, sweetheart of the Prep school prodigy, Jane Lane had made a hell of a comeback. She abandoned her loner art chick status and now thrived in Lawndale High's social scene.

In all, leaving Daria behind.

She had finally gotten what she wanted. To be left alone.

Daria kicked her feet against the bed, hands folded over her stomach, and closed her eyes.

A single tear tracked its way down her cheek. All was peace.


	39. Now Serving

"**Now Serving...**"  
7/3/12

Saint Peter stood at the Pearly Gates (tm), Book of Life before him.

And boy, was he _pissed_.

A soul stood at the other side of him, belligerent and ignorant as a customer at a fast food counter.

Pete glared at the soul, leaning against the podium with the book open and turned to a certain page.

The soul, cocky as ever it had been in life, slouched in his direction.

"Do you know who you're dealing with?" Pete cocked a brow. "Tommy Sherman?"

"Look, bub," Pete grated, at the end of his formerly eternal patience. "We go by the book here, alright? The Book says no entry, so you _get_ no entry, capice?"

"Whoa, gramps," Tommy laughed. "Tommy Sherman ain't got no use for your 'book.'"

"Izzat right?" Pete jabbed the Book with his glowing finger. "Well, lookee here? It don't require your permission. Getcher ass to Limbo, boy."

"Hey, Tommy Sherman ate the wafer! He drank the wine! He did the confession, even though the only thing he had to confess was being too awesome!" He grinned, his Neanderthalic brow wrinkling. "So make with the fluffy clouds and the hot chicks with halos and wings, know what I'm sayin'?"

Peter's incorporeal eyebrows twitched and the podium creaked ominously with the tightening of his grip. Then his hands abruptly relaxed and a dangerous, oily smile spread across his golden face.

"Know what, Tommy?" He flipped the Book closed and leaned closer to the deceased moron. "You're right. How about I make you a deal?"

Tommy grinned, his beady eyes gleaming with assumed triumph.

"_That's_ what Tommy Sherman's talkin about!"

Pete glanced around, as though to assure this exchange was not overheard.

"Here's the deal. I send you back to earth as a reincarnated soul. If you don't die within twenty four hours, you get to stay around. And when you die, it's eternal rest in green pastures for Tommy Sherman." He bared his teeth in what should have been a smile. "Whaddaya say, bub?"

"Alright!"

Pete snapped his fingers, and Tommy vanished.

A moment passed.

"Fuckin mook."

**0.0.0**

Tommy awakened at the side of a road, seemingly in Lawndale. He was in the suburbs, a upper-middle class development by the look of it. He was so happy to be alive, his tongue lolled out and his tail wagged rapidly.

...wait.

_**The fuck?!**_ Tommy tried to yell, but all that came out was "Rrrroooofff!

He was a dog! Tommy flopped over in his agitation, then leaned down and licked himself.

_Hey_, he thought, smiling a doggy smile. _That's not bad._

He would have continued to apply his new, extra-long tongue to his doggy bits if he had not at that very moment spotted quite the handsome stick across the street.

Tommy bounded to his feet and ran for it.

A large red SUV came around the corner. Tommy just had enough time to look over before he was sent flying, the world going black for a brief moment. When he came to, he looked up out of his one good eye and saw, to his amazement and chagrin, the Misery Chick standing over him.

Then all was darkness.

**0.0.0**

"Welcome back!" Pete greeted, grinning, as Tommy glared across at the saint, the stick held inexplicably in one hand. "Didn't expect you back so soon."

"You made Tommy Sherman into a fuckin dog!" Tommy railed, shaking his drooly stick for emphasis.

"Hey, I never said I was gonna send you back as a _human_ soul. Fine print, paizan."

Pete snapped his fingers, and Tommy's form began to shimmer.

"Hey," Tommy gasped, panic sinking in as he felt himself drawn downward. "Hey! Where're you sendin me?"

"Limbo, bub. Didn't you know?" He grinned, teeth sharp and deadly white. "In the Catholic religion, animals don't have eternal souls."

Tommy screamed, the sound like a distant yell through a closed door, and vanished.

Pete flipped his book open, took a deep breath, and smiled.

**La la LA la laaa**


	40. In the Cards

"**In The Cards**"

Stacy squirmed in her seat as the psychic slowly turned the cards over, explaining what each one meant for her life, past and future.

Finally she turned over the last two cards.

"You will meet two men," the woman said serenely. The cards were the King of Swords, and The Fool. "One you will love forever. The other is the man you are destined to spend your life with."

"W-what?" Stacy blinked down at the cards, eyes glued to The Fool where he grinned back at her. "What do you mean?"

"Weeeeelll..." Madame Tiffany tilted her head, and her silky black hair swung with the movement. "You're going to fall in love with a man, but he will never love you back. And then you'll met a man you'll spend your life with, and he'll be the one to love _you_ forever."

"So..." Stacy pulled the King of Swords closer to herself, frowning. "I'm going to love this guy, but he won't love me?"

"Noooo." Madame Tiffany pushed The Fool to Stacy's manicured fingertips and tapped it. "This is the man you will love."

A long moment passed. In a quick motion, Stacy reached into her purse and threw some money down onto the table. She was gone a moment later. The King of Swords disappeared with her.

Tiffany took the money, locked it in her strong box, and gathered up the incomplete set of Tarot cards. She dropped them into a drawer, and pulled out a fresh box. As she sat shuffling, she smiled, and the cards seemed to dance across her fingers. The Empress hovered before her face, and she smiled at the regal figure. The King of Swords swam upwards to float beside it. The cards circled, then a knock came at the door and the deck stacked itself neatly on the tabletop.

Tiffany hummed pleasantly to herself as her next appointment was shown in.

A handsome brown-haired man sat at the table, green eyes shining with mirth, and laid out his palm.

"I'm ready to hear my future," Tom Sloane said. And Madame Tiffany obliged him.

"Pick a card," she commanded, gesturing to the tarot deck.

Tom reached into the center, and out came The Fool. As Tom laughed over his fate, another head popped into the room.

"Hey, Tommy boy," Charles Ruttheimer called from the doorway. His hair, usually combed back, fell over his forehead. "How long is this going to take?"

The Madame invited him in, and Charles took the empty chair beside his friend. He, too was bid to pick a card.

Tom glanced over and laughed again.

Charles had drawn the King of Swords.

And Madame Tiffany smiled.


	41. Moroned

"**Moroned**"

Daria and Tom stood on the beach of an unpopulated island. Their plane had lost an engine during flight, and Daria had been forced to make a water landing. The small craft was half in, half out of the water. Surveying the damage, Daria deemed it easily reparable. She started toward the plane and the emergency repair kit she had made sure to load on-board when she heard Tom speak behind her.

"Looks like we're stranded. There's only one course of action open to us now." Daria pulled a large tool kit from the open cockpit and turned to answer when Tom continued, "We have to populate the island."

Daria's hand opened and the kit crashed to the sand. Tom stood in the sun, stark naked and smirking.

"Bow chicka wow wow."

**La la LA la laaa**


	42. Dominated

"**Dominated**"

Tom very deliberately clipped the leash onto the collar around Daria's neck, then pulled hard on it until her ear was against his lips.

"Say you're a whore," he ordered, and pulled back to look into her eyes as she obeyed.

"You're a whore," Daria deadpanned, smirking, and Tom felt a twitch of irritation.

"Fine. Say 'I'm a whore.'"

The smirk widened by a hair's breadth. "You're a whore."

Tom dropped the leash and stepped back.

"Dammit, Daria!" He turned and started stomping about the room, his back to her. "If you're not going to at least try-"

His would-be tirade was cut short when something wrapped around his throat and pulled him backwards. He found himself on the carpet, looking up at the knee-high combat boots he had special ordered for tonight. His eyes followed them upwards, past Daria's milky thighs, and the matching panty and corset to the collar at her throat. She was no longer wearing the leash; she held it in her hands like a whip, the handle end wrapped around Tom's neck.

Daria smirked down at her lover, chin tilted upward, and tapped one steel-toed boot.

"Don't you mean 'dammit, _Mistress_'?"

Tom's body became electric with arousal and fear.

"Yes'm."

**La la LA la laaa**


	43. Ill-Conceived

**Ill-conceived**

Brittany sauntered up to Jane in the hallway, gray and black pigtails bobbing.

"Have you seen..._Daria?_"

Jane cocked a brow.

"Why do you want..._Daria?_"

A brilliant pink flush suffused Brittany's cheeks, and her bright blue eyes blazed as they flew wide.

"What makes you think I _want_ her? I don't want her! _Who said I want her?!_"

Jane smirked as her eyes flicked down to Brittany's erect nipples. Brittany followed her gaze.

"You know," Jane crooned as she leaned close and circled one of the nubs with one finger. "I can do a lot more than..._Daria_."

Brittany sunk her teeth into a plump, pink bottom lip. And succumbed.


	44. Now Trending

"**Now Trending**"

Daria and Quinn sat in the Morgendorffer living room. They suddenly looked up from their respective activities (makeup and Sick, Sad World), expressions that of extreme shock.

"ZOMG!" Quinn cried, throwing down her eyeliner pencil. "Daria, I MUST HAVE YOU!"

"ZOMG!" Daria replied, throwing the remote aside and shattering a window in the process. "Quinn, I must ALSO HAVE YOU!"

"**HOT MAKEOUTS!**" Quinn screamed, and launched herself across the couch to land on her sister lips-first.

They were writhing around and licking each other's faces and stuff when Helen got home.

"Oh, my," she purred, removing her suit jacket. "Room for one more?"

Daria and Quinn came up for air.

"ZOMG!"

**0.0.0**

Elsie looked up from her magazine. Tom had just walked in, gnawing on a chicken leg.

"ZOMG!" Elsie exclaimed, and Tom threw down his fowl in disgust.

"Dammit, Elsie!" he cried, backing up. "Isn't this family fucked up enough?!"

**0.0.0**

"Zzzzooooooommmmmgggggg," Tiffany drawled when Stacy walked into the Fashion Club meeting. Stacy tilted her head, mystified.

"Tiffany, we're not related."

Tiffany pouted.

"I'm an only chiiiiiiiild."

**La la LA la laaa**


	45. The 11th Hour

**The Eleventh Hour**

Two bodies writhed and twisted on the narrow dorm bed, their breathing fast and uneven as they raced toward climax.

"_This! Is! **Better!**_ **_THAN!_ GUUUUUUUUMMMM!**" the body on top cried in rapture, then flopped over, exhausted.

The clock on the bedside table read 11:01 am.

**0.0.0**

"And that's how I lost my virginity," Jane concluded.

Daria sat for a moment, then dug a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket and forked it over.

"You were right. I didn't want to know."

**La la LA la laaa**


	46. Baby, No

"**Baby, No**"

She punched the unresisting body and screamed with all the hate in her fetid, poisoned heart, "_**I WISH YOU HAD DIED TEN YEARS AGO!**_"

Her arms were seized roughly and, still screaming, she was hauled away from the casket.

The church was silent as Quinn Morgendorffer was dragged down the aisle.

Justin Beiber's corpse was reset in its pose of peaceful rest, and the funeral continued as though nothing had happened.


	47. Ave Maria

"**Ave Maria**"

Jane knelt on the asphalt beside the fallen girl and pressed a hand to her gushing wound. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth from a pierced lung. Jane's eyes found a crucifix and rosary around the girl's neck.

"Are you a Catholic?"

The girl nodded.

With her free hand, Jane reached out and pressed her fingers to the girl's forehead, chest, and each shoulder.

"In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit," Jane murmured. "Amen.

"Hail Mary, full of grace.  
The Lord is with thee.  
Blessed art thou amongst women,  
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.  
Holy Mary, Mother of God,  
pray for us sinners,  
now and at the hour of our death.  
Amen."

"Why," the girl gasped, blood gurgling horrifically at the corners of her mouth. "Why are you..."

"Everyone," Jane sighed, taking her hand from the girl's chest and rocking back on her knees. "Deserves a last rite."

"But you _shot_ me."

"Yeah," Jane sighed again, pulling her silenced pistol from the back of her jeans and placing it just over the prone girl's heart. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

A whistle and a cough were the only heralds of the passing of a young life along a stretch of abandoned road in the suburb of Lawndale.


End file.
